


On the Fence(ing)

by Empress_Nocturne



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Fencing AU, M/M, bc i have a lot for the fencing au ideas and it's great, i conceptualized and wrote this in roughly 45 minutes, i really like klance ok and i wanna join a klance zine pls, probably ooc but like it's ic enough???, someday i'll write and post my headcanons for that au, this is basically just based off the fencing au i have in my head for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 10:12:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empress_Nocturne/pseuds/Empress_Nocturne
Summary: Keith and Lance are both part of a fencing club, Voltron, and train hard. Lance fences épée and Keith sabre, but Lance learns sabre to impress Keith. Keith knows he likes Lance, but Lance is still not sure if he admires or likes Keith. They spar. And Pidge has a bet with Hunk for chips at a vending machine.





	On the Fence(ing)

**Author's Note:**

> first klance writing ever (and first voltron writing ever). yeet.

“Alright, guys, that’s enough advances and retreats. Warm up with some lunges, then get the equipment on so we can spar, alright?”

Shiro, their coach, sat against the wall of the of the gym, checking over his clipboard and making sure everyone’s papers for the upcoming tournament were in order. They were, yes, but he needed to make sure. Especially after Pidge turned in the last form so soaked in Mountain Dew that the ink was illegible.

Speaking of, poor Pidge was doing her best to lunge out, lunge far, but she just couldn’t get the same reach Lance effortlessly could. And, of course, Lance was gloating.

“See? It’s all about flexibility. And we all know who’s the most flexible here. Lunging is how you win!”

“I’m going to stab you in your knee.” Pidge was dead serious. Tips sat at the end of each weapon, but she’d at least leave a nasty bruise. Lance smirked and opened his mouth to retort, but Keith beat him to it.

“Can you please stop? This is practice for sparring, not maiming.”

“Yeah, uh, Keith is right.” Hunk pulled out of his lunge, then launched an advance-lunge. “I mean, I’d really like to, you know, actually take this seriously and beat the other teams? So?”

“Hunk’s right. Team Galra keep beating us, and I don’t want to see that smug expression on their coach’s face anymore.”

“For me, ‘Lura, I just want to see the look on Lotor’s face when I place first and he doesn’t,” Lance said. His smirk showed he was clearly imagining the disappointment and upset Lotor would surely feel if he held second place, under Lance.

“Well, they’re school tournaments, really. Try to beat him at the next one, it’s a real one.” Keith stopped lunging and stood, brushing the hair off his face. Why would he keep his hair that long and refuse to tie it up, Lance had no clue. Pidge finished as well.

“More wall-work, Shiro?” she called out across the gym.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, still focused on his clipboard. Not like there were any other foil-users to practice with besides Hunk, but Hunk was trying to practice against Lance using épée, since he was worse at épée than foil. She nodded, then jogged to her bag.

“Coach, can I put on music?”

“Fine, Lance.”

Keith rolled his eyes, a fake show of defiance. In his opinion, Lance had too much Shakira on his playlists, but he didn’t mind, since Lance would stop to dance sometimes. Even in clunky fencing gear. His hips really didn’t lie.

“I saw that, mullet!” Lance yelled, a look of mock offence plastered on his features. Already connected to the Bluetooth speaker Shiro had out, Lance only needed to take his phone out and press play. In the background, Hunk already had a station out and plugged in, ready to go. He began to suit up, until Allura halted him.

“Hunk, I was wondering, may I practice my épée with you? I feel like I have a good handle on sabre.” Of course, Hunk obliged, and this meant…

“Hey, Keith.”

“What, Lance?”

“Let’s spar! You and me, Lance versus Keith!”

“Sabre, then.” To tell the truth, Keith only knew how to fence sabre. The others were… too slow for him. Foil took forever to score points, especially limited solely to the opponents front torso for points, and épée had too many wasteful flairs. Sabre was perfect. Run in, slash, get the point, do it all over again. Fast and hard, nothing fancy. Plus, he could whack others instead of poke them.

It felt the most like using a real sword. Good, because he’d only joined fencing years ago because he thought they could use real swords.

Surprisingly, Lance obliged. Funny, because Lance only seemed to like épée. With the jumping, tapping, surprise lunges and escaping the opponents sword, plus coming in fast, feinting, jumping and tapping his opponents back? It looked cool and precise! He loved it!

But Keith did sabre, so Lance learned sabre, too. To beat Keith, he told himself, but he also felt the need to impress Keith. After all, a smile and compliment from Keith was more motivating than a pep talk or criticism from Shiro.

“I’ll set up, go suit up!” With that, Lance dashed off, grabbing the right equipment. Keith smiled slightly and chuckled, then made eye contact with Shiro. Shiro glanced between Keith and Lance, a teasing smile on his face, in only the way a brother could. Keith scoffed and shook out his hair, already pulling his everything on.

Lance may be difficult to beat, what with his quick reflexes. But his long limbs could be both an advantage and disadvantage, more to hit the closer they got. Keith would be harder to beat, of course, he took to sabre like a fish to water and more often than not landed top three at tournaments. Even first place. He was decently ranked in Sabre, too, and Lance was only ranked in épée.

He glanced up again, and noticed Pidge somehow roped Shiro into sparring with her. Well, he assumed, judging by how both were pulling on gear and Pidge was jumping like she just drank six Capri-Suns in a row. The jumping was totally out of time with the Megan Trainor song playing from the speaker. Keith finished yanking on his gear, then walked over to Lance, who’d finished setting everything up. As Keith plugged into the machine, Lance pulled his equipment on.

Soon enough, their swords were clashing. Keith scored the first touch, to Lance’s chagrin, then Lance managed to get the second touch in. He did… better than Keith thought he would.

On the other hand, Allura already beat Hunk, although he’d managed to get a few touches in as well, and Pidge clearly took advantage of having a smaller target to hit than Shiro, though still behind in touches with him. Good job, Lance thought, slightly distracted as he blocked an attack from Keith.

Keith won that match, of course. This is his main weapon, not Lances. By now Paramore was playing from the speakers, a nice addition to Lance’s now-somewhat-eclectic playlist.

“Wanna go again?” Keith asked as they shook hands, helmets off.

“Yeah, duh. I’ll wipe the floor with you!” Cocky as ever, Lance pumped Keith’s hand once. “After some water, though. C’mon.”

They unplugged and headed over to the wall of the gym. Pidge shouted, clearly elated over something. Keith eyed the back of Lance’s head, hair somehow still nice, even though it was sweaty and pressed down from the helmet. God, Lance was still hot even though he was sweaty. Meanwhile, Lance thought about how it wasn’t fair that Keith’s dumb hairstyle looked good and untouched, and how he was barely sweaty unlike him. How dare he look so good after a bout with him!

Okay, bad wording, Lance thought as he reddened, then shook his head and picked up both his and Keith’s bottles. He tossed Keith’s over, who caught it easily and chugged a few mouthfuls. Lance didn’t bother with that, instead squirting his water into his mouth. Keith couldn’t help but stare. He decided to speak up, cover that up.

“You know, you, well… you did well. Really well.”

“Ha, I did?” Lance made eye contact, genuine surprise clear on his face. A smile grew, very large and very bright and very Lance. Keith nodded, still awkward.

“Well, I’ll remember that and treasure every bruise you gave me, Mullet.” Lance reached out and lightly bumped Keith’s shoulder with his fist, and in return Keith shoved him back. Gently, of course.

“I’ll treasure the one’s you gave me, too, then.” Keith grinned. Is this how you flirt? Probably not. Besides, it was no secret Lance was bi, and just maybe Lance was interested in Keith, the way Keith was in Lance. At least Lance wasn’t using those (actually funny) pick-up lines on him.

“Hell yeah. You know, we should train together more.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If I could beat you, I could beat Lo-what’s his face. Besides, Keith, you have to learn épée. I’ll teach you!”

“Probably. And sure.”

Clearly, Lance was not expecting that reply, from the way he choked on his water. Maybe because Keith usually deflected Lance’s offers. But why not? Meant more time trying to get Lance to, well, not be oblivious.

“G-great! Sounds good! How about Saturday? Um, meet here, spar a bit, go grab something to eat. I’ll get keys from Shiro.” Lance recovered fast, and Keith couldn’t tell if he was red from choking or something else. Better take a leap. Besides, Lance basically asked him on a lunch date.”

“It’s a date, then.” As soon as Keith said those words, both boys went silent, awkward and red-faced as they took more unnecessary gulps of water. Lance broke the silence.

“Yeah. It’s a date.” In the back, Pidge whooped, yelling something about Hunk owing her chips from the vending machines. They couldn’t have been that loud and obvious, right…?

Who cares. It’s a date. And sure, both boys felt rather anxious about this, but they have to be confident, see how it plays, right? And Keith’s wanted a date with Lance for months now. Well, he has it now.

They headed back to their station, near each other, closer than before. Lance broke the awkward (yet comfortable) silence.

“So, does that mean I’ve been upgraded from rival to boyfriend?”

“You were never a rival. That’s a you-thing.”

“Hey! That’s a lie and you know it!”


End file.
